


A Sigh Is Just a Sigh

by orphan_account



Category: Watchmen
Genre: Challenge Response, F/F, Femslash, Ficlet, Porn Battle, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-30
Updated: 2009-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex, regret and a friendship between two women who don't really understand each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sigh Is Just a Sigh

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Oxoniensis' Porn Battle #8.

The Silk Spectre spread her legs, her skin pressed into squares as the fishnet stretched and bit into her flesh. The Silhouette touched her high-heeled shoe, let her hand run down the checkered skin, across her calf, into the inside of her thigh. She looked up into the Spectre's face.

'You do want to,' she said in wonder. 'But it's only three months since he--'

'Shut up,' said the Spectre, her breathing laboured. 'Please.'

The Silhouette let her hand run further down, come to rest upon the warm mound covered by black silk, the seat of too many people's desire. The Spectre lay back on the billiard table, hooked her high-heeled foot around the Silhouette's neck and pulled her down.

The Silhouette knelt down as directed and ran her thumb into the indentation on the mound. The Spectre gasped.

-

It was snowing the day the Silhouette was kicked out of the Minutemen. She stood outside in the street, waiting, watching them leave one by one, all without looking at her, their cars' lights painting her shadow in dark blue on the snow as they all curved out of the street. The Silk Spectre was the last, hurrying out in high boots and a fur coat wrapped around her. She got to her car, looked up and saw the silhouette on the snow. She hesitated.

The Silhouette threw away her cigarette and strode over.

'It's okay,' she said before the Silk Spectre had time to speak. 'I know you didn't want it. Even when you voted, I knew you cared.'

'It was just so - hypocritical,' said the Spectre, looking down and wrenching her hands. 'Captain Metropolis and Hooded Justice had their hands up like everyone else. It just isn't fair.'

'It's not about fair.' The Silhouette stepped up and gathered the Spectre in her arms. She kissed her, long and sweet. Oh, that scent the Spectre wore - had always worn. It was intoxicating. She felt the other woman struggle in her arms, and let her go, only to have her glance up and down the street, then pull out a handkerchief to wipe her nose on and hide behind.

'You can always come and see me,' said the Silhouette, realizing at the same time how desperate that sounded. 'I've always been fond of you.'

'I don't think that's a good idea.'

The Silhouette nodded. She had been resigned to the answer even as she asked the question. 'Take care of yourself, then.'

'You too,' said the Spectre, and took a step back. The women looked at each other in the reflected lamplight and the landscape diffused into Christmas card softness.

'Fuck,' said the Spectre at last, her mouth twisted in sorrow. 'We won't, will we?'

'Probably not,' said the Silhouette with a wry smile. 'Honey - stay away from the Comedian at least, won't you?'

'I rather think so. I hate that bastard.'

'Right,' said the Silhouette, who didn't believe it. She'd never understand the Spectre. Perhaps that was what drew her to her so. She took a step back, too.

'Get home to your girlfriend, you,' the Spectre said as she got in the car. She looked back just once before backing up and driving away.

For six weeks more, the Silhouette wondered on occasion if that last look was a request for help, or one of pity. Well, but that was that, and there was still a world to save.


End file.
